Sometimes Revenge Isn't The Important Thing
by Sara Jaye
Summary: Cartman's gone too far this time, and all Kyle wants is to give him his just desserts. Or so he thinks.


This time, Eric Cartman had gone too far.

One would think that after turning a kid's parents into chili, setting someone up to get their ass kicked by their parents, trying to exterminate the Jews for his own amusement, giving a kid AIDS, allying with _Cthulhu_ and using aborted fetuses to build his own Shakey's it would be impossible for him to sink lower. But Eric Cartman always found a way.

In hindsight, Kyle knew he should have said something sooner. Butters wasn't his favorite person in the world and he admitted to poking at him sometimes, but for all his naivete and stupidity he was a sweet kid and the last person who deserved what Cartman had done.

Of course, it was also kind of the school's fault for making them use the greenhouse as a temporary change room while the real one was being fumigated. But it wasn't the school who'd overheard Kenny suggest Butters go to the bathroom in an empty flower pot, it wasn't the school who'd called the big kids and teachers and the girl Butters had a crush on to gather around the building, and it wasn't the school who'd told Butters to close his eyes while he stripped the privacy plastic off the walls.

Kyle clenched his fists in anger as he half-listened to Garrison's lecture on the Hays Code. Being caught peeing in pot was bad enough but when he'd realized he was caught he'd pulled his pants up before he even finished. And worse still it turned out Cartman had found a way to broadcast it over the Jumbo-tron at a baseball game. And this being South Park, Butters was instantly the town paraiah and ended up being literally kicked out of school for the rest of the day.

He glanced over to where Cartman sat at his desk, a smug smile on his fat face. _I hate you, Eric Cartman, you fat sociopathic fuck. I hate you so much, I hope someday you shit your pants on live TV and everyone** crucifies** you for it._ He'd get the bastard for this...he didn't know how just yet, but he would. First, though, he had to make sure Butters would be okay.

"...and that was the end of the classic gangster movie," Mr. Garrison finished. "That's all for today, kids, remember to answer questions one through seven on your worksheets and to throw rocks at Butters the Pants-Peer's window on your way home from school." _Finally_, Kyle thought. He grabbed his things, waved a quick goodbye to Stan and rushed out the door, making a beeline for Butters' house before the rock-throwers could get there.

-x-

As it turned out, he didn't even have to go that far. He passed the woods between their houses and school and heard muffled weeping; it had to be Butters. Only two people he knew cried in the woods, and Al Gore hadn't been back to South Park since the Imaginationland fiasco.

It was pretty pathetic, really. Butters just sat there in the dirt crying, not even wearing a coat or a blanket or hiding under a tree...almost like he _wanted_ someone to find him and kick his ass.

Just the sight of the poor kid sitting there in his misery and pain made Kyle want to tear Cartman limb from limb.

"Uh...hey." He jammed his hands into his pockets. "Look, maybe you better get on a train to Montana or something, before the other kids find out you're here. Don't worry, it'll be safe to come back once Cartman's in the coma I'm gonna put him in."

"Oh." Butters didn't even turn around. "T-that's nice."

"Yeah, well that fat fuck has it coming. He thinks Wendy did a number on him that time, but all she did was knock out a bunch of his teeth. I'm gonna dislocate his fucking_ jaw_." Kyle smirked. "He thinks he's such hot shit, that little bastard, but when I get through with him he's gonna wish he was never born!"

"Have fun," Butters mumbled; a loud squelching noise told Kyle the boy was wiping his nose on his jacket sleeve.

"H-hey, stop that. Listen, after that, everyone's gonna make fun of Cartman for getting his ass kicked and no one will even remember-"

"_I_ will!" Butters suddenly turned around; his eyes were bloodshot and his nose was running like a river. "N-no matter what Eric does, I-I'll always remember that horrible moment where e-everyone in the whole world saw me pee myself! You beating up Eric isn't gonna c-change that!"

"But...if he gets his ass kicked..." Kyle trailed off as he took another good look at Butters. _If Cartman gets his ass kicked for what he did everyone will make fun of him and forget Butters. But Butters will remember. But if Butters knows Cartman's the loser now he might! But he'd still remember how it felt! But..._

"It aint, so s-stop pretendin' like it is, Kyle, 'cause it won't make a difference!" Kyle took another long look at the boy, weeping and sniffling and miserable and pathetic.

_Shit._ He kicked at a pebble. _He's right. I could kick Cartman's fat ass and he'd suffer, but he'd go right back to being an asshole. He never learns. But what am I supposed to do, then? I can't protect Butters from everyone who wants to run him out of town, I can't make it so the peeing never happened._ Just then he felt a tug on his coat sleeve; he turned his head to see Butters looking up at him.

"Kyle? Why'd you get all quiet all of a sudden, you're not m-mad at me, are you?"

"No, Butters...I just...look, I won't touch fatass, but what else am I supposed to do?" Butters went quiet for a moment before sniffling and tugging on his sleeve again.

"C-could you stay with me? I-I mean, if you wanna go home it's okay, no one wants to be around a pants peer like me, b-but-"

"I'll stay." Kyle sat down next to the boy and awkwardly wrapped an arm around him. "Um...you want anything? I have a can of juice in my backpack, and some leftover cookies." Butters shook his head and curled up against Kyle's side.

"No thanks."

"All right." Kyle sighed, looking over his shoulder and then at Butters again. It would be getting dark in a few hours. "Um, Butters? I'm gonna have to go home sooner or later, you know. I can't just leave you here."

"I'll be okay. I'd rather take my chances with wild animals than with my mom and dad," Butters muttered. Kyle frowned.

"Aw, dude, you don't wanna get mauled or eaten. Look, maybe I can sneak you into my closet."

"Won't your folks get sore?"

"Probably."

"You better not, then." Butters sighed. "Look, Kyle, I lived in a dump once after Eric locked me in a fridge and made me think the world ended. I can stay a night in the woods."

"If you're sure." Kyle made a mental note to put his lunch leftovers in Butters's bag before he left. "Um...I won't let this happen to you again, okay?"

"Aw, it's okay, Kyle. Wasn't your fault," Butters said, sniffling. "Thanks for comin' after me, though. I'm glad at least someone cares."

So Kyle sat there with Butters until the sun began to set, neither boy saying a word. Not another thought of Cartman or kicking his ass crossed Kyle's mind for the rest of the night, and he realized maybe it was better that way.

He'd learned something that day. Sometimes, being there for a friend was more important than punishing someone who wronged them.

Even if it _was_ Butters.


End file.
